


The In-Laws

by SPowell



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mechanic!Merlin, elopement, established fest winter 2013, resistant!Hunith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>short summary:<br/>Prompt: "in-laws"<br/>Newly married, Arthur and Merlin invite the in-laws over for the weekend. </p>
<p>longer summary:<br/>Merlin and Arthur met when Merlin was a mechanic and Arthur brought his Maserati in to be serviced. After a whirlwind romance, they got married. Knowing his mother hates people with money, Merlin has never told her who he'd been dating nor that they'd become serious. Now that they're married, Hunith is not amused.<br/>Hunith and Uther come to visit one weekend soon after the honeymoon to meet their new sons-in-law.<br/>Disclaimer: I make no profit from this endeavor. The characters belong to BBC and Shine, along with legend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The In-Laws

**Author's Note:**

> Good grief, this came from a one word prompt "in-laws," and it turned into something pretty long! I do hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I do my best, but I'm sure it's painfully obvious I'm not British.

Established Relationship Fest

Arthur/Merlin

Prompt: In-laws

_The In-Laws_

 

 

“Merlin? Are you awake?” Arthur turned over, trying to see into the darkness of the bedroom.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur fumbled for the lamp on the bedside table. “I’m not going back to sleep if you’re lying here awake.” The light came on, illuminating the room.

“Nugh,” Merlin grabbed a pillow, pulling it over his face and huddling into a ball.

Arthur rose up on his elbows, squinting. “Can’t you sleep?” He looked at the digital clock. “It’s three A.M.” He wrapped his body around Merlin’s like an octopus. “You’re still worried about father’s visit, aren’t you?” He shook Merlin. ”Stop worrying,” he ordered.

“Turn off the lamp, and I will,” Merlin said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“Promise?” Arthur asked.

“Promise.”

Arthur huffed a sigh and leaned away, clicking the light off. He settled back in the darkness, but first wrestled the pillow away from Merlin’s face.

“Silly goose,” he chided, nestling his nose against the nape of Merlin’s neck.

                                                         ~~OO~~

 

“I wish you would calm down, Merlin,” Arthur stated for the third time that day. He watched his new husband flit about their flat, moving the chair an inch to the right and the television an inch to the left before picking imaginary lint off the ottoman.

“For Christ’s sake, we’ve had the cleaners in! The place is immaculate!” Arthur waved his hand around the gleaming room to illustrate his point.

“I know! I can’t help it!” Merlin stopped in the middle of the spotless carpet and tugged at his dark hair with long fingers. “Your father will be here any minute!”

“My father isn’t going to eat you if something’s out of place,” Arthur crossed his legs and leaned back into the leather sofa, giving the cushion beside him a pat. “Come sit,” he invited with a tilt of his blond head.

Merlin looked at him warily but obeyed. Arthur wrapped an arm around Merlin, pulling him close, his breath hot in Merlin’s ear as he said slowly, “I want you to stop worrying about my father. He’s going to love you, just as I love you.”

Merlin turned a fraction of an inch and raised his brow. Arthur huffed out a laugh. “Okay, perhaps not _just_ as I do, but he will love you. Or like you well enough, at least.” Arthur took Merlin’s chin in his hand and brought his mouth to his, kissing him warmly, nipping and suckling at his lips.

“I don’t know how you can be so sure,” Merlin said, his body taut and refusing to relax. “Your father wasn’t exactly thrilled to know that we got married without telling him.”

“No, but he’s gotten used to the idea,” Arthur reminded him. “And he was very pleased to be invited for the weekend.”

Merlin leaned his head back on the sofa. “Why did we have to invite Mum here at the same time? Are we gluttons for punishment?”

“Why are you so worried?” Arthur asked, frowning.” Do you really think Hunith won’t like me? Mothers usually do.”

Merlin laughed at the strange mixture of insecurity and over-confidence that was so Arthur. “She probably will, but we could have made things easier on ourselves.”

“ _Probably?_ ” Arthur followed Merlin into the bedroom where Merlin proceeded to change jumpers. Again.

“I think this navy one makes me look more capable, don’t you?” Merlin asked, looking at himself in the mirror over their dresser.

“Capable of what?”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Merlin, what is it about me, exactly, that you think your mother isn’t going to like?” Arthur wanted to know. “Is it that I come from money?” Arthur sat down in the middle of the bed and watched Merlin fiddling with his hair. “Or that I’m incredibly handsome?” He scratched his head, frowning, before pointing his finger at the mirror. “Is it my unusual intelligence? My wit? The fact that I ooze charm and charisma?”

Merlin turned and looked at him, raising a dark brow. “Not to mention modesty and humility?” He shoved Arthur back on the bed and crawled up the length of him, covering him with his body. “Don’t worry; she’ll adore you, Arthur.” Merlin hoped this was true. He’d been trying not to think about it.

“Who’s worried?” Arthur asked, kissing Merlin enthusiastically.

The buzzer announcing Uther’s arrival interrupted their snog, and Merlin rushed to straighten his clothes and hide his erection while Arthur laughed and headed down the hallway.

“Father knows we have sex, _Mer_ lin,” he teased, opening the door.

While father and son greeted one another a bit stiffly, Merlin nervously edged his way toward them, hating that he felt so inferior, but unable to help it. He was very aware that Uther would have preferred his son to have married someone with more money and social standing, and preferably of the female persuasion, although he’d evidently accepted his son’s sexual orientation long ago.

“Father, this is Merlin,” Arthur turned to present him, placing a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder, his fingers grazing the bare skin of his neck just where the dark curls touched his collar.

“Merlin,” Uther greeted him solemnly, holding a large hand out to shake. Merlin kept his own firm and refused to flinch at the larger man’s vise-like grip.

“Good to finally meet you, sir.”

“It would have been nice to be invited to the civil ceremony, but since that didn’t happen, I suppose this will have to do,” Uther stated, walking purposefully into the flat and surveying it with barely hidden disdain, although it was large and opulent.

“My mother is similarly upset,” Merlin replied. “She’ll be here later tonight.”

“Father, I’ll show you to your room,” Arthur told him. With a wink at Merlin, he picked up Uther’s leather satchel and carried it down the hall. Merlin tried and failed not to pause to watch Arthur’s pert bum swaying in his slacks. He turned a moment later to find Uther’s eyes upon him. Merlin gave him a grin, blushing crimson.

“You have a remarkable set of ears,” Uther commented stoically before following his son down the hall.

The flat had three bedrooms, and the men had given Uther the one farthest from their bedroom.

“Perhaps you’ll want to rest before dinner?” Arthur inquired. “I know you’ve had a long flight from the states.”

“Yes, yes. That would be nice,” Uther replied. “Perhaps I’ll shower first.”

Arthur showed Uther where everything was while Merlin began dinner preparations. He loved to cook and found it very therapeutic, which came in handy at times like these when his heart wanted to crawl out of his chest. Uther Pendragon made him very nervous, to say the least.

It wasn’t that people with money made him uncomfortable—the opposite was true, really. His mother had brought him up to look down at the privileged because the privileged tended to look down on them. In fact, when he’d met Arthur, Merlin had been working on Arthur’s Maserati and insulting him every chance he got, never imagining that that kind of behavior would only serve to keep the prat coming around. Eventually Merlin was the only one Arthur would allow near his car and then, before Merlin knew what had happened, they were dating.

No, Merlin was intimidated by Uther simply because he was Arthur’s father, and Arthur mattered to Merlin.

Period, end of story.

And that was why Merlin was making a French dish he’d never attempted before simply because it was Uther’s favourite.

He heard the shower shut off and Uther close the door to his room. Merlin slid the dish into the oven and made his way into the bedroom where he found Arthur on their bed, shoes off, flipping through a magazine. He looked up and gave Merlin a smile.

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were creating,” Arthur told him, putting the magazine down. “It smells wonderful. Father’s going to take a nap.”

Merlin sat on the edge of the large bed. It was easily the most expensive thing in their flat. The frame was mahogany wood with four posters and a canopy. Arthur had insisted on curtains, giving it an old-fashioned feel. He’d had it specially made. It was long to accommodate their tall bodies, and extra wide because Arthur liked a lot of room while having sex. The mattress was one of those Sleep Number deals…each side made especially for their own requirements. Although more times than not, he and Arthur ended up entwined in the middle anyway.

“You were worried you’d distract me, and I’d put some crazy ingredient in, admit it,” Merlin accused.

Arthur’s lips twitched. “Maybe a little. I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

Merlin leaned his head on Arthur’s shoulder. “He hates me.”

“What makes you think that?” Arthur asked, surprised.

“He tried to intimidate me with his handshake—crush my hand.” Merlin pouted a little.

Arthur tutted, taking Merlin’s fingers and kissing them, one by one. “He doesn’t even know you, Merlin.”

“He said my ears are remarkable.”

“They are,” Arthur told him, running a finger over the edge of the one closest to his hand.

“He hates me because of who I am—a lowly mechanic. He doesn’t have to get to know me. I might as well just give up now.”

Arthur smiled, leaning over to wrap his arms around him. “You might as well.” He kissed Merlin’s cheek. “So why don’t you? Go put some eyeliner on. You know how that turns me on, anyway. And one of your tight T-shirts.”

Merlin laughed. “And my skinny jeans?”

Arthur nodded.

“I’ll put on some Indie Rock. We’ll dance. It’ll be _scandalous_.” Arthur licked the side of Merlin’s face.

Merlin continued to smile for a few moments before letting it fade.

“Seriously, Merlin,” Arthur said into his ear. “I know you want Father to like you. But it doesn’t matter whether he does or doesn’t, really. You’re my husband. I chose you. That isn’t going to change, yeah?” He turned Merlin’s head and kissed him gently on the lips, pressing their foreheads together. “Father doesn’t pay a hell of a lot of attention to me, anyway. I’m surprised he’s even here.” Arthur sighed.

They ended up falling asleep until Merlin’s mobile woke them sometime later. He sleepily fumbled for it as Arthur’s father appeared in the doorway.

“What’s that wonderful smell, Arthur?” Uther asked, surveying the room with its dark furniture and pristine white bedspread and curtains around the massive bed. “Good God, I can see where your priorities lay!”

Merlin coloured, but Arthur ignored the comment.

“Merlin’s making Coq au vin,” Arthur told his father, stretching and blinking owlishly in the semi-darkness. “I guess we fell asleep. Did you have a nap?”

Uther nodded. “I’m famished.” Merlin heard the older man’s stomach growl all the way across the room and suppressed a smile as he peered at the screen of his mobile. Uther was human after all.

The bed dipped. Arthur slipped on his shoes, glancing at Merlin over his shoulder. Merlin pocketed his phone.

“Mum texted to say her flight was delayed. We should go ahead and eat without her.” Merlin nodded at Uther and walked around him to the kitchen.

Their dining room was understated, its potential formality ruined by the framed posters of rock and roll greats Arthur had insisted on hanging all over the walls. While Merlin loved Indie Rock, Arthur was all about classic rock, which was an example of the kind of thing that had surprised Merlin about him when he’d begun to get to know Arthur. He’d expected Arthur to be snobbish and boring, but had found him to be the opposite.

Merlin’s friend Will had thought Merlin bonkers for agreeing to go out with the rich git, but after Arthur had outright dared Merlin to ‘step out of his comfort zone,’ taunting him by calling him a ‘frightened little girl,’ Merlin had caved from the sheer absurdity of it. It had taken him two scrub brushes and an entire bottle of dish liquid to get the grease out from under his fingernails only to be taken on a hair-raising ride on the back of Pendragon’s motorcycle, for Christ sake, outside the city where there wasn’t any fog--only miles of starry sky. And they’d talked for hours and snogged for even longer, and Merlin had fallen a little bit in love that night, although he'd hidden it as best he could.

Merlin thought about this again as he watched Arthur across the table from him, the framed poster of Jim Morrison just behind his shiny blond head. Uther really seemed to be enjoying his meal, and Merlin was glad, and more than a little perplexed that he wasn’t more relieved about it. He seemed to have come to terms with it all somehow in the space of only two hours. He smiled at his handsome husband, who had a bit of chicken on his chin and looked all the more dashing for it.

Lana del Rey’s “Born to Die” played on the speakers connected to Merlin’s iPod, filling the room with her torchy music, and Uther made small talk, interspersed with grunts of pleasure over his food. He asked Merlin about the novel he was writing, avoiding the topic of cars and the fact that Merlin continued to work on them. Although Merlin and Uther had never met before that day, Arthur had always kept his father apprised of their relationship, carefully keeping Merlin shielded from Uther’s reaction to his son dating a mechanic, although Merlin suspected the outrage and disgust, of course.

Talk turned to Arthur’s sister, Morgana, and her summer in Italy, along with her fiancé Gerald, who was an _artist._ Uther gave the word the same connotation as one would _rapist_ or _child molester._ Merlin could only imagine what kind of emphasis the word _mechanic_ got.

“I’m sure he’s perfectly nice, Father,” Arthur said, as they sat in the living room drinking their after-dinner-sherry. Uther flared his nostrils and didn’t comment. The door buzzer sounded and Merlin rose, tossing his cloth napkin onto the table.

“That must be Mum,” he said, unable to contain his excitement. He hadn’t seen his mother since he’d gone to visit her in Ireland two Christmases before. He almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to the door, and heard Arthur’s chuckle behind him.

“Prat,” Merlin muttered fondly, opening the door and enfolding his mother in his arms almost before he got a good look at her.

“Oh, Merlin,” she said into his ear, holding him tightly, her bag rolling to its side on the floor. She smelled of cloves and cinnamon, same as always, and a pang of nostalgia hit Merlin, almost knocking the breath out of him. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Arthur pick up her bag and move it into the flat.

“Did you have a good flight, Mum? Despite the delay?” Merlin asked, leading her inside. “I wish you would have let us pick you up at the airport.”

“Nonsense, everything went according to plan,” Hunith said. “and if you’d picked me up, you just would have been sitting there waiting.” She looked around, her eye landing on Arthur, who smiled at her. “So, you must be the rich git who married my Merlin.” Merlin’s mouth fell open. _Damn._ If his mother's sometimes sharp tongue was making an appearance this early, she must be pretty upset.

“Mum,” Merlin took Arthur’s arm, bringing him close and clasping his hand, feeling suddenly very protective. “This is my husband.” He gave her a look, half-warning, half-pleading, and she relented, although she did not give Arthur the hug Merlin had hoped she’d give him.

“Hello, Arthur, it’s nice to _finally_ meet you.”

“Er, hello, Mrs. Emrys, likewise. I’ve heard so many nice things about you from Merlin,” Arthur replied politely, and Merlin knew he was hurt. He wanted to snap at his mother, but more than that, he wanted to kick himself, because he should have seen this coming.

They stepped into the living area, and Merlin introduced Uther to Hunith. Uther was the perfect gentleman, although Merlin thought he detected a bit of snobbery from the man. He couldn’t be certain he wasn’t imagining it, though, as Merlin was feeling instinctively protective of his mum at that moment, even though he was angry with her at the same time.

“I could warm you up some dinner, Mrs. Emrys,” Arthur offered, but Hunith declined.

“I’d really like to go to bed, if you don’t mind. I’ll feel much better in the morning. It’s been a long day.”

“Of course, Mum, let me show you to your bedroom,” Merlin took her bag and led her down the hallway, his mind on the fact that twice Arthur had called her by her sir name and his mother had not asked him to do otherwise. When they got into the room, and Merlin had shown her the bathroom, she seemed to morph back into the mother he knew and hugged him again.

“It’s so wonderful to see you, Merlin. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Mum. I’ve wanted you to meet Arthur for so long, and he’s wanted to meet you.”

Hunith’s mouth formed a thin line, and Merlin closed the door to give them privacy. “So I take it you’re angry? You don’t like Arthur? Give him a chance.”

Hunith turned away looking over the spacious bedroom decorated in blues and golds. “You know why I’m upset, Merlin. You married without telling me, and you didn’t marry one of us.”

“What?” He crossed to the bed and sat down. “ _One of us_? I don’t even know what that means! Irish Catholic?”

Hunith turned around. “No, Merlin!” She frowned. “You know perfectly well what I mean, or I would have heard about Arthur Pendragon long ago. Those people have _money_ , and lots of it! We are simple folk! Regular people. We don’t take life for granted. They were born with silver spoons in their mouths. They don’t know what it’s like to have to work for their money! In fact, I can’t believe you even gave that man the time of day—just looking at him, I can see how privileged he is, and his father---he looked directly down his nose at me.”

“I can’t speak for his father, because I just met him, but I know Arthur, and he does _not_ look down on people,” Merlin said emphatically, avoiding her accusation about having purposely kept Arthur from her.

Hunith set her jaw and planted her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating him? You’ve hidden it from me, and now you’ve gone and married him behind my back.”

Merlin’s mouth dropped open. “It wasn’t behind your back! And I told you we were dating!”

Hunith pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you twist the truth, young man. It certainly _was_ behind my back! You very well knew how I would feel, because you gave William instructions not to speak of it to me. You told me you were seeing someone, yes, but you skirted the details.” Hunith’s Irish brogue got heavier with every word, a testament to the strength of her emotions.

“And then suddenly you announce you’re married and just got back from Greece!” She shook her head before sighing heavily.

“I don’t want to argue with you, Merlin. I just want to be going to bed. I’ll talk to you in the mornin’.” She kissed him on the head, and he stood, lines of confusion etching his face. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Merlin schooled his expression before joining Arthur and his father in the living room. Arthur said something and Uther laughed, a rich, deep chuckle rising from deep in his belly. He must have convinced Arthur to put on some classical music because, if Merlin wasn’t mistaken, it was Bach that now played from the speakers. Uther seemed a bit tipsy. The decanter missed half its sherry, but Arthur looked completely sober, and perhaps slightly disgusted with his father. Merlin crossed to the table and began clearing it, leaving Arthur to entertain Uther.

Merlin hoped Arthur wasn’t too put off by Hunith’s sharp tongue upon greeting him. No matter his show of confidence earlier, Merlin knew that his husband wanted his new mother-in-law to like him just as much as Merlin wanted Uther’s approval. Probably more.

Merlin could kick himself for having spent so much time worrying about his own reception from Arthur’s father that he hadn’t stopped to really consider how his own mother might treat Arthur and how Arthur would handle that.

After he’d loaded the last dish into the dish washer, he felt arms come around his waist and lips press to his neck.

“Uther,” Merlin whispered urgently, “I don’t think Arthur would approve!”

Arthur chuckled into Merlin’s neck. Doing a surprisingly authentic imitation of his father’s voice, he said, “Hands on the counter, _boy_ , and let’s see what you’re made of!”

“Ew!” Merlin swung around. “Arthur, that’s just…disturbing!”

“You started it!” Arthur grinned crazily, pulling Merlin to him and kissing him, and Merlin felt loved, needed, happy. They held hands as they fumbled through the darkened hallway toward their bedroom, almost bumping into Hunith as she came out of the bathroom.

“Goodnight, Mum. Do you have everything you need?” Merlin asked.

“I’m fine, dear,” she answered, disappearing into her room, closing the door behind her.

“She hates me,” Arthur’s words echoed Merlin’s earlier statement concerning Uther’s feelings about him. Arthur looked a little bewildered, but the look was tempered with something more disturbing—something that made Merlin think that Arthur didn’t really feel he deserved to be liked by his mother-in-law. That realization hurt Merlin terribly.

“She doesn’t know you,” Merlin repeated Arthur’s previous words to him concerning his father.

“Déjà vu,” Arthur said, closing the door to their bedroom behind them.

“Well, you were right. We need to give them a little time. They just got here.” Merlin pulled his jumper over his head and tossed it over a chair.

“I think you’ve already won over Father with dinner,” Arthur told him, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Mum will love you. She’s really just angry at me for not telling her all about you before.” Merlin sat on the edge of the bed and toed off his shoes.

“Why didn’t you?” All Arthur’s attention was on the cuffs of his shirt, but Merlin could see how interested he was in the answer. And _fuck._

Merlin sighed. “I don’t know, Arthur. I mean…I do know, but…” he stood, continuing to undress as he spoke.

“Mum’s always been so against the privileged. She was mistreated by the people she worked for, same as her mum before her. She saw the way I was treated in school by the posh wankers who went there.” He shrugged. “She hasn’t had much reason to like them. Me da…” Merlin smiled when he realized he’d drifted into his childhood vernacular. He glanced over at Arthur, who gazed softly at him with eyes that melted Merlin’s heart.

“My father lost his job because it was given to someone with more social standing. That’s when my parent’s marriage fell apart. It just seems that everything bad that’s happened in our lives can be blamed on the wealthy.”

Arthur, now down to his boxers and socks, padded over to Merlin, placing his hands on his husband’s bare shoulders, thumbs rubbing the sharp clavicle bones. “And now she’s afraid I’m going to hurt her only son.”

Merlin shrugged. “That about sums it up, yeah.” Merlin put his hands on Arthur’s waist and pulled him closer. “But I know you’re not going to hurt me, Arthur. I just knew it was going to take Mum getting to know you for her to believe it. So I told Will not to open his trap about how rich you were, and I didn’t let on how serious we’d gotten or let your last name slip. So Mum’s a bit miffed with me, and she’s taking it out on you.”

Arthur kissed Merlin on the nose, bent, and pulled off his socks. He climbed under the fluffy duvet. “Do you want to keep the gas fire on?” he asked, indicating the fireplace across from the bed.

“Yeah, let’s do.” Merlin finished undressing and climbed in next to Arthur, snuggling in close, his head in the crook of Arthur’s arm. Arthur ran his fingers through Merlin’s hair.

“I’m not used to not being liked, you know,” Arthur said rather imperiously into darkness marred only by the dancing flames across the room.

“Bollocks,” Merlin laughed, relieved to slip into their relaxed, easy teasing.

Arthur shifted. “What? What do you mean by that? I’ll have you know, people adore me on sight.”

“On sight, maybe, but as soon as you open up that mouth, they run for the hills.”

“Nonsense,” Arthur settled down more comfortably in the bed, pressing his lips into Merlin’s hair.

“I didn’t like you when I met you,” Merlin pointed out.

“Yes, you did.”

“Did not. Thought you were the biggest prat ever. I couldn’t believe I had to work on your stupid car and see your stupid face all the time.” Merlin slipped his fingers just beneath the edge of Arthur’s boxer’s, his thumb tracing the line of hair traveling from navel to groin.

“My Mas is _not_ stupid! And neither is my face.”

Merlin leaned down and kissed the indentation between Arthur’s abdominal muscles. “If you say so.”

“We’re going to be driving that car that you insist is so stupid tomorrow to Gwen and Lance’s party, unless you want to put your mother on the tube,” Arthur pointed out with a sniff.

Merlin propped up on an elbow. “Are you sure we shouldn’t take the tube?”

“Do you really think your mum would rather take the nasty, crowded subway system than ride in my fancy car?” Arthur looked aghast and a little crestfallen.

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He traced a finger up Arthur’s side. “It is so weird that you aren’t ticklish. It’s like you’re a robot or something. An android.” Merlin made little robot noises.

Arthur pulled Merlin over on top of him. “Don’t be ridiculous, _Mer_ lin. Although I suppose you could say I fuck like a robot—for hours without stopping.” He kissed Merlin’s neck.

“Let’s not get carried away,” Merlin laughed, wiggling helplessly when Arthur tickled him under the arms.

“I want to hear more of this _not liking_ _me_ stuff,” Arthur demanded when he’d let Merlin sag over onto his side of the bed. “You were obviously smitten with me when I walked into that garage.”

“I could see myself in your sunglasses,” Merlin told him flatly.

“You checked out my arse,” Arthur pointed out.

“I did not!” Merlin objected, starting to roll away. Arthur pulled him back in, holding him so their mouths were close together and they were sharing air.

“You did. You wanted me.”

“You are such a _prat!_ ” Merlin wanted to nip the end of Arthur’s aristocratic nose.

“Shh! Or your mum will come in here and agree with you!” Arthur grabbed two handfuls of Merlin’s bum, pulling his groin up against Arthur’s, causing Merlin to gasp at the sharp rush of desire that ran through him at the contact.

“But you’re _my_ prat,” Merlin said, taking a taste of Arthur’s mouth, swiping his tongue in while gyrating his hips slowly, feeling how they fit together so perfectly.

“You tempting little….” Arthur rolled onto his back, Merlin on top, and bucked up. They ground into one another until they were both breathing heavily. Merlin, for his part, felt dizzy with desire.

“Christ, Arthur, sex with my mum and your father in the flat probably wouldn’t be the best idea,” he protested just before he latched his mouth onto one of Arthur’s round, pink nipples, feeling his lover shudder beneath him.

“Only because you’re… so loud,” Arthur said on a gasp, opening his thighs and surrounding Merlin’s hips. Merlin lifted his head, groaning in answer, pressing into Arthur, their cocks hard beneath the soft cotton of their respective pants. Merlin reached down and pushed his off with Arthur following suit, kicking them out of the way.

When skin met skin, they both sighed at the sensation.

Arthur cradled Merlin’s head in his hands, dipping his tongue between Merlin’s lips over and over again, sucking his mouth almost dry. Merlin couldn’t help the little noises he made at the onslaught. His heart sped up, forearms planted on each side of Arthur beginning to shake. He let his weight drop onto his husband, most of it falling below the waist, and Merlin swallowed Arthur’s groan, enjoying the sweet velvet slide of their cocks.

“Oh, God,” he breathed between kisses. “Maybe we can…”

“How do you want to do this?” Arthur asked, looking up at him. “’Cause we’re gonna do it.”

Merlin smiled. “Bossy prat.”

~~~OOO~~~

Hunith did not enjoy the ride from hell in the fancy Maserati. She was still so upset with her son, but, as always, it was difficult to stay mad at Merlin. He had been such a fey child, and he still retained that quality in manhood. So sweet, and in many ways so like his father, whom she still missed terribly.

When Hunith had learned that Merlin had gotten married in a civil ceremony without inviting her, it had been like a knife to her gut. She couldn’t believe that her only child would do that to her. Then she’d learned the reason; her son had married an heir to the Pendragon fortune. Of all the people for him to marry! She still couldn’t believe it. And of all the people to have given her the news--that busy body Serena Browser, William’s mum. Good Lord in heaven, Hunith had felt all kinds of stupid! She’d stopped answering the phone for days.

She’d wanted to lay into Merlin the minute he’d finally called her, just back from his luxurious honeymoon in Greece. But the lad sounded so excited and full of joy she couldn’t bring herself to burst his bubble; and while a part of her was disgusted at the thought of all the money that must have been poured into _that_ extravagance, another part couldn’t help but thrill at the thought of her boy getting to experience such a wonderful trip, even if it was with the son of a business mogul.

Merlin had apologized profusely about not telling her how serious he and Arthur had gotten. Babbled on about how _in love_ they were, and about the wonderful flat they had in the heart of London. He said a ticket waited for her at the airlines and he was flying her out as soon as possible.

And here she was sitting in the front passenger seat (leather soft as butter) of a car that cost triple what she made a year, next to her son’s admittedly movie-star-handsome husband who drove like a demon straight out of the depths of hell. They were on their way to a party being thrown in the newly married couple’s honor. Arthur’s father sat in the back chatting politely with Merlin.

_Oh, Merlin. You will never fit in with these people,_ Hunith thought morosely, fidgeting with the handkerchief in her lap.

“Comfortable?” Arthur asked, glancing at her with polite concern in his deep blue eyes.

She nodded, relieved when those eyes turned back to the road. She watched his hands on the wheel-mainly to make certain they stayed there. She saw that he wore a plain platinum band on the ring finger of his left hand, as did Merlin. She was glad to know that Arthur wore one, too, and didn’t insist that Merlin be the only one, like a claimed bride. Well, that was the _only_ plus on Arthur’s side, other than good manners. She sniffed and turned back to the window. She was going to have to convince Merlin that the best thing to do would be to leave this man before he really did a number on him.

That morning Merlin had made them all breakfast, since evidently cooking was too menial a task for the young Pendragon heir. That was just the first on a long list of negative things that poor Merlin was going to find out about his new husband once the rose-colored glasses came off, Hunith felt sure. And then Hunith had heard Arthur bellowing from the bathroom, asking Merlin where his razor was, like Merlin was his _servant_ or something, rather than his husband. She bristled just remembering it.

She suddenly and vividly recalled the muffled noises she’d heard from the bedroom next to hers the night before, and her cheeks filled with blood. Her Merlin certainly knew how to let go. It reminded her of his father—memories she’d thought she’d buried long ago. She clutched her hanky, glad for the distraction of changing roads and Merlin’s sudden announcement from the backseat that they were almost there.

Arthur slipped into a parking space that Hunith was sure was too small for the sports car, but that he somehow made fit, and they squeezed out of the Maserati and entered a building a lot less posh than the one that housed Merlin and Arthur’s flat.

“Who did you say lives here, Arthur?” Uther asked with that look on his face that reminded Hunith of when Balinor used to change Merlin’s nappies.

“Our mates Gwen and Lance, Father. They’re a very nice couple. They’ve invited all our friends, some you’ve met before. Leon will be here.” He opened the door and held it for Hunith, Merlin, and his father to enter. The smile he bestowed upon Hunith as she passed was charming, to be sure, but she’d met plenty like him and knew not to be taken in. She only wished she’d taught her son better, but evidently he could be fooled by a pretty face and a hand inside his zipper.

Merlin gave her a stern look just before the door to flat 103 opened to the grinning face of a pretty, dark-skinned girl with charming cork-screw curls.

“Hello!” The girl welcomed them, and Merlin introduced her as Gwen du Lac. Moments later her husband joined her, an incredibly handsome man with a Mediterranean look about him. His smile was bright in his gentle, tanned face as he greeted each of them, his fingers warm as they curled gently around Hunith’s hand.

“So wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Emrys,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Merlin has said so much about you.”

“Thank you, dear. And please call me Hunith.”

Immediately, Hunith felt the dagger of her son’s glare and turned to catch its full strike, glancing behind Merlin at Arthur, but he’d just turned away to hang up their coats. She looked again at Merlin, who now appeared exasperated.

Merlin grabbed her by the elbow, none too gently, and jerked her aside.

“How could you do that to him?”

Hunith blinked, not exactly sure what he meant. Had she insulted Lance somehow? Merlin tended to lean toward the dramatic, and all she’d done was greet his friends, after all. Gwen approached, and Merlin gave a jerk of his head in disgust before letting go and heading for Arthur, wrapping an arm about his waist. There were already several people in the apartment, and Hunith found herself split from the others as Gwen guided her into a spacious living room eclectically decorated by someone who had obviously traveled a lot. When Hunith commented on this, Gwen laughed.

“That would be Lance. He’s been all over. Barcelona most recently. I go sometimes, when work allows. Would you like a drink?”

While Gwen poured Hunith a glass of wine, the older woman took a seat on the well-worn sofa, feeling quite at home. The others seemed to have congregated in the kitchen where they laughed uproariously over something.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you,” Gwen said, handing Hunith her glass. “I simply adore Merlin. Lance does, too.”

Hunith smiled genuinely. “He’s a special boy, there’s no mistaking it.” She took a sip of wine. “It’s nice here. I feel much more comfortable than in Arthur’s flat.” She hadn’t meant to say that; it had just slipped out.

Gwen looked surprised. “You mean Arthur and Merlin’s flat.”

“Not much of Merlin there that I could see,” Hunith muttered into her wine.

“More in their bedroom than anywhere else, I suppose,” Gwen colored a little, but pushed on, “but Arthur moved in first, and a lot of Merlin’s things are in storage still. I know that Merlin was eager to have you and Uther over as soon as they got back from Greece. There will be more of Merlin around the flat soon enough, I expect.”

Hunith sniffed, her eyes getting a bit watery in spite of herself. “He didn’t seem to be eager to have us at the ceremony.”

Gwen bit her lip, and Hunith felt sorry for her. She put her hand on the girl’s knee. “It’s okay, love. T’isn’t your fault. Tell me, how do you know my boy?”

“Oh,” Gwen smiled. “I met him through Arthur. Arthur and I went to uni together. We used to date.” Hunith was surprised to hear this. Gwen must have noticed, because she quickly added. “But that was ages ago. And Arthur’s gay, of course.”

“So he lied to you?” Hunith asked carefully, hiding behind her wine glass. She could feel herself beginning to tremble in outrage for the girl.

“No!” Gwen looked mortified. “No, no. I mean…It wasn’t like that. I don’t think Arthur knew he was gay at the time.”

Hunith had a difficult time believing that, and made a sound to that effect.

“He was in denial. Hadn’t come out….you know.” Gwen seemed desperate to make things right. “I mean, I wasn’t his _beard_  or anything. We had a very nice relationship.”

“But you were probably in love with him and held hopes of more, while he knew that could never be,” Hunith replied flatly, another black mark on Arthur’s character checked off.

Gwen looked positively green. So much so, that Lance noticed and hurried over.

“Gwen?” Concern etched his handsome face.

“I—I'll be in the kitchen,” Gwen said, rising and heading that way.

Hunith smiled tightly. “Go right ahead dear. I’ll be fine.” She waved Lance off to follow her.

The doorbell rang and sounds of greetings could be heard from the foyer as the elder Pendragon entered the living area holding a glass of whiskey in one hand and a young blond wearing a very short skirt in the other. Hunith wrinkled her nose in distaste. A tall, lanky man with curly ginger-colored hair appeared a moment later, approaching Hunith and introducing himself as Leon, an old chum of Arthur’s.

He seemed mild-mannered, very pleasant, and not at all a snob. Hunith was a little surprised that he was a good friend of Arthur’s, but of course, Arthur had fooled that nice girl, Gwen. And there was always the chance that Leon wasn’t what he seemed to be on the surface. That was the trouble with Merlin, Hunith mused. He always took people at face value, never bothering to delve deeper before befriending them. That was the way to get one’s heart hurt, Hunith knew, and she felt deeply guilty for not having taught her son better. Ultimately, it was her own fault that he chose poorly.

Before she could really engage Leon in conversation, a pretty, bouncy girl called Elena offered finger food and then Hunith spotted a familiar face in the growing crowd as the doorbell continued its intermittent ringing.

“William!”

The open, ruddy face turned to her with a cautious smile, and seconds later Hunith felt herself enveloped in a warm hug. “So good to see you!” Will smiled genuinely.

“Is it, now?” Hunith reprimanded, only half-jokingly, because she really was a little ticked off at Will for not telling her about Arthur.

Will had the wherewithal to look ashamed.  “I’m sorry, Hunith, but I had to do as Merlin asked. He’s my best mate.”

“I understand,” Hunith relented, patting his cheek. “But if I’d had some warning, I might have been able to stop it.”

“Oh, I tried. There was no stopping it, believe me. In the end, I think it was for the best anyway. Look at him.”

They both turned their heads to see Merlin doubled over laughing at something across the room, Arthur standing beside him, a look of utter captivation on his face as his eyes focused on his husband.

Hunith sniffed. “Well, who wouldn’t be enamored by our Merlin? It isn’t _that_ I’m worried about. It’s when Arthur grows tired of him and throws him away like yesterday’s garbage! You know his kind well enough, William.”

Merlin’s eyes scanned the room then, as though searching out his mother. Finding her with his best mate, he grinned broadly and gave them a wave. _Well, at least he’s gotten over being angry with me from before_ , Hunith thought, still unsure of why that had been in the first place.

Hunith and Will waved back, smiling indulgently. Arthur’s smile was less assured, but Merlin once again wrapped his arm about his waist, pulling him in close to his side, and Arthur pressed a kiss behind Merlin’s ear, his nose nuzzling the dark hair above it. For a brief moment Hunith felt the sharp, sweet pang of something she’d lost long ago. She turned away abruptly just as someone tapped a glass with a spoon and proposed a toast to the happy couple.

Hunith soon realized this interruption came from Leon, and his next words were so heart-felt and full of obvious love and respect for Arthur, Hunith couldn’t help but be moved. Arthur stood listening behind Merlin, arms wrapped about him, chin propped on his shoulder, looking more than a little abashed—probably something he practiced in front of the mirror, Hunith thought.

When Leon began speaking of Merlin and their love for one another, Arthur ducked his face into Merlin’s neck, his hands moving over Merlin’s stomach and chest, spreading out and pressing in, as though trying to meld Merlin into his body. Hunith saw her son’s innate reaction to his husband’s touch—the relaxation of his limbs, the tilt of his head against Arthur’s face, the faint blush on his high cheeks—and felt conflicting emotions.

“And so,” Leon continued in his soft, strong voice, as everyone listened intently, “while I always knew you were kind of clueless, taking a bit longer than most to figure yourself out,” Leon gave Gwen a wink where she stood with her arms wrapped around Lance. “… as well as somewhat of a posh git with a penchant for expensive luxury cars,” laughter rippled across the room, and Will in particular nodded in agreement as Merlin responded with a “Here, here!” and raised his glass, until Arthur playfully nipped him on the neck, causing champagne to splash everywhere.

Leon laughed and continued, “I also knew you’d work things out eventually and realize which end was up, so to speak.” He turned bright red at his own pun and catcalls volleyed about the room. Hunith noticed Uther looked like he’d much rather be elsewhere.

“Anyway,” Leon continued, clearing his throat. “Point is, as soon as Arthur found Merlin, he knew he was ‘the one.’ And we all knew it, as well.”

General assent rippled over the small gathering. Hunith pressed her lips tightly together.

“So here’s to Arthur and Merlin.” Leon raised his glass, everyone following suit. “May they have many, many years of happiness together.”

“To Arthur and Merlin!” Everyone drank their respective beverages. Hunith drained the wine from her glass, willing to toast her son’s happiness, but not believing for a moment that it would come from being married to Arthur Pendragon.

“He’s really not so bad,” Will told her a moment later. “It took me a while to get to know him, but now I find him fairly tolerable.”

Hunith frowned. “What could Merlin possibly have in common with his kind?”

“He makes him _happy_ , Hunith,” Will replied.

“You know, this is all your fault,” Hunith accused.

“Mine?” Will almost squeaked.

“If you had only been gay, you would have been perfect for Merlin.”

~~~OOO~~~

The party was lovely, but Merlin was tired, and he could tell that Arthur was stressed out. Uther had gotten more and more inebriated as the evening progressed, and his attentions to Sophia were bordering on lecherous. Elena had made a courageous attempt to lure the girl away from him, but Sophia was having none of it. Merlin suspected she had her sights on a rich husband.

To say that Arthur was embarrassed by his father’s behavior would be putting it lightly, and Merlin wanted nothing more than to find a way to quietly diffuse the situation.

“Can you get Sophia out of here?” he asked Lance when he’d gotten him alone in the kitchen.

“Are you kidding? You couldn’t pry her off the old man’s lap with a crow bar.”

Merlin groaned. “This is awful.”

“What is?” Gwen appeared with a tray full of empty glasses.

“Sophia,” Lance answered, taking the tray from her and setting it on the counter.

“Oh,” Gwen nodded knowingly. “Poor Arthur.”

“Exactly,” Merlin said.

“Can I ask you something, Merlin?” Gwen asked hesitantly. “I mean, you don’t have to answer, because it’s definitely none of my business…”

“Go on, Gwen,” Merlin prompted.

“Well, what’s your mum got against Arthur?” Gwen immediately colored. “I mean, not that she hates him or anything, it’s just…well, it’s just that she, uh, seems to. Um.” Gwen looked to Lance for help.

“Don’t look at me, luv, I don’t know what you’re on about!” Lance smiled gently at her.

“Unfortunately, I do,” Merlin sighed. “Mum doesn’t like people with money, and she didn’t know I was dating one of Britain’s richest men. Finding out that I’d married him hasn’t made her the happiest woman on earth.”

“Oh,” Gwen nodded. “That explains it, then. I’m sorry to say I may have made it worse by telling her I used to date Arthur. Now she thinks he broke my heart. I’m sorry, Merlin.”

“Nevermind.” Merlin patted her arm. “She’s going to believe what she wants to believe, unfortunately. I’m already angry with her for immediately inviting Lance to use her first name, but never asking Arthur to.”

Lance looked abashed, like it was his fault somehow. Merlin started to tell him not to be silly, when Arthur walked in from the dining room. Merlin quickly changed the topic to the weather.

“Were you talking about me?” Arthur demanded.

“What makes you say that?” Merlin asked, scratching the back of his neck while Gwen stuck her head inside the refrigerator and Lance busied himself with the dirty glasses.

“Because you started talking about the weather as soon as I walked into the room,” Arthur answered.

“Actually,” Merlin said, choosing the lesser of two evils, “we were discussing how to get Sophia off your father’s lap, if you must know.”

“Oh,” Arthur replied, one side of his mouth rising. “Short of dynamite, I don’t think it’s possible. I’m sorry, Gwen. I know it’s a bit disgusting.”

“Don’t be silly, Arthur,” Gwen latched onto his arm and hugged it. “No one’s paying a bit of attention.” They all peeked around the corner past the dining area to find Sophia’s tongue lodged down Uther’s throat and his hands just south of the hem of her tiny skirt.

“Oh, my God! Merlin, time to call it a night.” Arthur kissed Gwen on the cheek as Merlin hustled into the other room to round up his mother and Uther.

“Ridiculous!” Uther bellowed. “The night is young.”

“Yes, but unfortunately, you are not, Father, and you need your sleep,” Arthur said loudly, coming round from the other direction with his father's coat. Sophia hovered at a grumbling Uther’s side, and Elena took the opportunity to yank the girl away by the arm. Uther teetered a bit on his feet as Arthur slipped his father's arms into the sleeves of his London Fog. At the door, Merlin had his mother in her coat and had just pushed her purse into her hands while saying their goodbyes.

“Lovely party! So nice to see all of you. Thank you so much!” Merlin shook hands and kissed cheeks. Will opened the door and ushered Hunith out to the car, laughter and chatting following them all as they settled into the Maserati. This time Uther sat up front with Arthur in case he became sick on the drive home.

Arthur kept his eyes on the road and Uther sang “Moon River” slightly off key while Hunith sent Merlin periodic looks that clearly said _I told you rich people were lunatics!_

When they arrived back at their flat, Arthur helped his father to bed while Merlin puttered about, setting the coffee maker for the next morning and turning on the small lamp over the desk in the living room.

“Your friends seemed very nice,” Hunith said suddenly from behind him, breaking the silence and making Merlin jump. He turned from where he was placing the bookmark in the novel Arthur had left open on the sofa to find her in her housecoat and slippers.

“Thanks, they are,” he answered, putting down the book and crossing the room to close the drapes. He heard the muffled sound of shoes dropping on plush carpeting on the other side of the flat and wondered how Arthur faired with his father.

“I got the feeling you were angry with me earlier,” Hunith ventured, and Merlin turned to face her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you have no idea why, I suppose,” he accused, anger and hurt coiling in his belly.

“No, I really don’t.”

“You asked Lance, whom you just met, to call you by your first name,” Merlin reminded her, lowering his voice.

“That’s right. What’s wrong with that?” Hunith asked.

“Nothing, except you hadn’t extended the same courtesy to your own son-in-law! And he was standing right there!” In spite of himself, Merlin felt both his ire and his voice rising. “Mum, give Arthur a chance! He doesn’t…” Merlin heard footsteps and quickly cut off what he was about to say, knowing Arthur wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Goodnight, Mum.” He walked forward, meeting Arthur in the hallway and forcing his body to relax before wrapping an arm around Arthur’s waist. “Everything all right with your dad?” he asked with a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” Arthur sighed tiredly. “He passed out as soon as he hit the sheets. I wrestled him out of most of his clothes and covered him up.” Arthur pressed his forehead to Merlin’s shoulder. “I’m exhausted, how about you?”

“Yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

Hunith appeared behind them, and when Arthur spotted her, he stood up straight.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there. Goodnight, Mrs. Emrys.”

“Goodnight,” Hunith returned, walking past them, her voice just this side of cold.

They walked slowly to the bedroom, and Merlin shut the door while Arthur pulled back the curtains around the large bed.

“It was a wonderful party,” Merlin commented, watching Arthur undress with slow, distracted movements.

“Yes,” Arthur agreed. “Leon gave a nice toast. Didn’t think he had it in him. He’s so shy, normally.”

Merlin laughed, nodding.

“Sorry about Father,” Arthur said after a moment as he began unbuttoning his shirt. He stared at the far wall, his fingers unusually clumsy.

“Arthur, don’t worry about it.” Merlin crossed over to him, knocking his hands out of the way and taking over the task.

“Probably embarrassed your mother,” Arthur mumbled, still not looking at Merlin.

“Not a lot embarrasses Mum, you’ll find,” Merlin replied easily, his tone belying the anger he still felt toward her.

“She seemed to like everybody,” Arthur ventured. Merlin reached the last button and slid the shirt off each of Arthur’s shoulders, kissing them in turn at the tender spot where they met his neck, only to find Arthur had forgotten to unbutton the cuffs and the shirt became stuck at the wrists.

Merlin tutted, pulling the sleeves back up again so he could loosen them properly. “Where would you be without me?”

“Clearly, sleeping entangled in my shirt,” Arthur smiled, tiny crinkles appearing around his eyes. He looked at Merlin then, and Merlin’s heart flipped. Leaning in, he kissed Arthur as the shirt finally loosened and slipped to the floor before pulling back and reverently planting tiny kisses all over Arthur’s cheeks and nose, causing Arthur to chuckle softly.

Merlin suddenly wanted to make Arthur feel very, very good.

Taking him by the hand, he led him to the bathroom with intent.

“Shower,” Merlin said with a promising smile and a wink.

Half an hour later, he had Arthur spread out on their bed, his pert arse propped up in the air. Merlin lay on his stomach between Arthur's open legs, slowly laving his tongue up and down Arthur’s perineum as Arthur whimpered helplessly into his pillow, his hands twisting in the sheets.

“Please, Merlin, please…” Arthur’s voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper, barely louder than the flames in the fireplace.

Merlin used his thumbs to pull the pale cheeks of Arthur's tempting arse wide, opening him up. Holding him like that, Merlin worked up a mouth full of spittle, sending a long line of it trickling down from his mouth into Arthur’s waiting hole. Merlin watched it disappear and felt Arthur’s legs quivering beneath him as it did. Merlin gave Arthur’s butt a sharp slap, then pulled the soft cheeks apart again, leaned in, and licked pink, puckered skin, pushing in the last bit of spit before fitting as much of his tongue inside as he could as Arthur bucked against the pillow beneath his hips, his breath coming in brief gasps. Utter jibberish fell from Arthur’s lips as Merlin moved his tongue around before pulling out and using his teeth to tug at sparse hairs and nibble at sensitive skin. 

Merlin loved rimming Arthur for just this reason--it made the conservative man come completely undone. The extremely intimate and slightly taboo act pushed Arthur's reserved, well-bred limits, taking him into new territory that never failed to shake him to his core. Merlin would never forget the first time and the look of utter mortification on Arthur’s face when Merlin put his tongue on him, or the way Arthur had writhed and squirmed under Merlin’s hands, calling out Merlin’s name like a mantra. Merlin had been harder than he’d ever been that night by the time he’d pushed into Arthur’s soaking hole, and he’d fucked Arthur like something possessed. They had both been sore for days afterward, and Merlin had felt a bit of a sex god.

"Raise up on your knees,” Merlin whispered, pulling the pillow out from beneath Arthur. When he did, Merlin turned and slid in its place, wrapping his lips around Arthur’s rigid cock, hearing a gasp just before he was speared by eight inches of iron-hard dick to the back of the throat. But he’d expected it, and although his eyes watered with his gag reflex, he encouraged the mouth fucking, breathing deeply through his nose throughout. It only took three good strokes before Merlin was rewarded with a mouth full of salty cum. Holding it just behind his lips, Merlin shimmied down the bed until he was again behind Arthur and eagerly pressing his lips directly to Arthur's gaping anus, pushing the semen inside with his tongue, pulling back to watch the muscle clench greedily, sucking it all in like some kind of mythological creature taking its sustenance.

Arthur shuddered, still in the last throes of orgasm, while Merlin used the rest of the spit and cum to slick himself before pushing into Arthur, pressing him down into the mattress with his body, thrusting shallowly with his hips.

Arthur lay pliant and dazed beneath Merlin, face against the bed as Merlin slowly thrust into him, feeling the soft skin of Arthur’s buttocks against his groin. The sensations thrumming through Merlin’s body jumbled his thoughts. While before he’d tried to be quiet, now he ceased to care that there were others asleep in the flat, and he groaned aloud, twisting his hips as Arthur’s arse clenched around him, making him crazy with lust.  He covered Arthur with his body like a blanket, leaning so that his mouth pressed to where a few strands of sweaty blond hair clung to the pink shell of Arthur’s ear.

Giving his hips another shallow twist, Merlin said softly, “I love your arse, Arthur. Your plump, delectable arse.” He kissed Arthur’s ear, and watched Arthur blink lazily as a shiver ran through his body like a current of electricity, shaking Merlin’s body with it.

“I love kissing it, biting it, watching it move under those expensive trousers…” Merlin circled his hips and gave another thrust, moving both their bodies against the mattress. It felt so good, Merlin wanted it to last forever. “And most of all, I…(jab) love…(jab) fucking…(jab) it.” Arthur groaned long and loud, and for a moment Merlin was overcome with the building sensations climbing over him like an invading, all-encompassing vine and had to hold still, his body rigid over Arthur’s. He could hear their breathing heavy and thick in the silence. Arthur’s body slowly awakened, Merlin’s words renewing his desire.

When Merlin had himself under control again, he leaned down and said, “Your father saw me looking at it…your arse. (thrust) Now he knows how I love it.”

Arthur moaned softly into the pillow, shutting his eyes, giving himself over to sensation.

“I have a confession to make,” Merlin said, and Arthur arched, pressing his pretty bum up against Merlin’s groin, squeezing a long moan out of him before he could continue, his mouth dry.

“You were right--when you first started coming into the shop, I used to watch your arse every time you’d turn around. Even though I’d sooner die than admit it, I wanted you then.” He licked the rim of Arthur’s ear. “Wanted you like you are now…under me. All mine. I wanted to be inside you, my dick between those plump cheeks.” Merlin felt Arthur’s breath quicken and knew he was getting hard again, and that made Merlin have to try very hard not to come himself. “I wanted to fuck you like this, Arthur. I wanted to fuck this arse. So, so much.” He grabbed a handful of Arthur’s hair, leaned down and bit him on the neck, just hard enough to hurt a little, and Arthur squeezed his muscles around Merlin’s cock, causing him to curse and lose it altogether. He began pumping into him.

“Such a tease,” Merlin panted. “A posh…tease,” his hips slammed in and out. Arthur arched underneath him, groaning, pushing his rear end up and into Merlin’s groin, meeting him thrust for thrust. Solid whiteness crept over Merlin’s vision until that’s all there was and wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him, making him light-headed, his hips stuttering as he released inside of Arthur.

Arthur grasped for purchase among the bedclothes, finally finding Merlin’s hands. Their fingers locked and Arthur cried out, his body convulsing, breath falling hard into the pillow, a sob escaping his lips.

“Hey, hey!” Merlin kissed hot tears from Arthur’s eyes. Gently pulling out, he moved over onto the bed and gathered his husband into his arms, stroking Arthur’s sweat-dampened hair. “It’s okay.”

Arthur’s body shuddered, and he squeezed Merlin tightly, burying his face into the pit of Merlin’s arm in a rare moment of vulnerability.

“What’s this?’ Merlin asked, mouth to Arthur’s temple where his pulse beat wildly. He held onto Arthur even more tightly as he shivered in his arms.

“Just…so…I came so hard,” Arthur swallowed thickly through his tears and gave a muffled sniffle.

Merlin ran his hands over Arthur’s soft, bare back. “That good, am I?” he smiled against blond hair, and Arthur raised his head, giving his husband a look that clearly told Merlin what he thought of that before nestling down again.

“Think we were too loud?” Arthur asked after a moment, his lips finding Merlin’s nipple and mouthing it. Merlin jumped, scooting down so that their faces were close together.

“Nah. Mum sleeps like the dead, and Uther’s passed out. Besides, we’re newlyweds. We’re entitled.”

Arthur entangled his legs with Merlin’s. “Did you mean what you said? About my arse?”

“You know it,” Merlin brought his hands farther down Arthur’s back and grabbed a cheek in each hand, squeezing appreciatively. “You can ask Will about the first time you came in the shop. I told him you may be annoying and drive a lame car, but you had the best set of buns I’d ever seen.”

Arthur laughed outright at that before pressing a kiss onto Merlin’s neck. “I love you, Mr. Pendragon.”

Merlin snorted. “As if I’d take your name, you git. You’re Mr. Emrys.”

“Good God, no,” Arthur exclaimed. “I can’t give up the family name!”

“Well, then. I guess we’re at an impasse.”

“Humph,” Arthur said, drifting off, his face just inches away on the pillow.

Merlin pulled the sheet up around them and kissed the top of Arthur’s head, listening as his breath evened out, loving him more than he had when he woke up that morning, and how was that even possible?

~~~OOO~~~

As Merlin poured the batter into the waffle iron, he listened to Arthur helping his father out the front door. Merlin had already said his goodbyes to the man, not particularly unhappy that his father-in-law’s visit had been cut short a day by a call from the London office. He did feel sorry for Arthur, however. No matter how annoying Uther Pendragon was, Arthur seemed to periodically crave his presence, no matter how it seemed to agitate him. Merlin thought this had to be simply because Uther was his sole parent and Arthur yearned for his attention. Arthur had expected his father to visit for the weekend, and now he had been cheated out of half of that visit.

Hunith sat at the table drinking a cup of tea and reading the newspaper.

“How many waffles, Mum?” Merlin asked.

“Oh, just one, I think,” Hunith answered. “I’ve got to watch the waistline.”

Merlin gave her a plate and sat down opposite. They heard the front door close and Arthur soon joined them, sitting down in front of the plate Merlin had set for him.

“Well, this looks delicious,” Arthur told Merlin as he picked up his fork.

“What would you like to do today, Mrs. Emrys?” Arthur asked Hunith, who had put the paper aside in favor of eating.

Hunith caught Merlin’s eye and said rather stiltedly, “Please call me Hunith, Arthur, I meant to say so before. And anything will be fine. I’m not picky.”

“Maybe we’ll go out for lunch, then,” Merlin suggested, giving his mother an encouraging look. “Do a little window shopping. I know of a crafts shop you might like, Mum.”

“Sounds nice,” Hunith replied, sipping her tea.

“There’s a bookshop near there, too,” Arthur added. “I’ve ordered a couple of books that are probably in.”

“That’s settled, then,” Merlin said.

Arthur’s mobile vibrated, and Arthur excused himself to answer it in the hall. Merlin listened to his muffled talking as he finished his breakfast, his mother rising to clear their dishes from the table when they had finished. Arthur’s voice suddenly rose from the living room.

“Dammit, Cenred, I told you those figures were wrong last week, so why is it you’ve waited until now to try to do something about it? You do know I’m on my _honeymoon_ , don’t you?” Merlin hid a smile behind his hand. He loved it when Arthur got all pompous and bossy with his employees. Of course, he hadn’t always loved it, until he realized what a complete pushover softie Arthur was deep down.

“If I leave my family and come down there only to find out this is some trivial error you could have fixed on your own, you are going to be answering to my father, who happens to be in town today, I’m sure you didn’t realize…” Arthur sounded ready to snap the man in half. Merlin turned to find his mother looking at him in horror.

“It isn’t as bad as it sounds,” Merlin quickly assured her, realizing that Arthur’s words evoked every reprimand she’d ever gotten from her vicious and uncaring employer when she’d been a struggling young mother. “I happen to know what a lazy lout Cenred is.”

“Perhaps being with the self-entitled elite has coloured your perspective, Merlin,” Hunith replied sharply, heading for her room.

Merlin sighed and started loading the dishwasher.

Arthur appeared moments later looking decidedly unhappy. He still wore his jeans and Polo, but he had his coat over his arm and car keys in hand. “I have to go to the office, but fuck if I’m staying long. I’ll meet you two for lunch. Text me wherever you end up.” He kissed Merlin on the cheek.

“It’s fine, Arthur.” Merlin gave him a hug, and after a moment Arthur melted into it.

“Tell your mother I’m sorry. I wanted to spend this time getting to know her,” Arthur said glumly.

“You’ll have plenty of time for that. Go clean up Cenred’s mess, and we’ll see you at lunch. This way you won’t have to spend hours looking at knitting supplies—lucky you!” Merlin kissed Arthur soundly, turned him around, and smacked him on the arse, sending him on his way. Arthur gave Merlin a naughty look over his shoulder and there was an extra swing of his bum on the way out that tightened Merlin’s pants. Remembering the night before and having his face buried between those pert arse cheeks, Merlin grasped his hardening groin just as his mother’s footsteps approached the kitchen.

Frantic, he yanked the freezer door open and stuck his head inside.

“Merlin? Did I hear Arthur leave?”

Merlin shuffled some frozen foods around, willing his cock to ease up. “Er, yeah, he had to go take care of that problem at work. He’ll meet us for lunch.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Will you be ready soon?”

“Any time you are, dear,” Hunith told him, thankfully retreating to the living room. Merlin sighed and leaned his head on a bag of frozen peas. As much as he’d missed his mother, he was really quite ready for her to return to Ealdor.

~~~OOO~~~

“You have enough yarn here to knit fifty sweaters,” Merlin told Hunith as they made their way down the street, Merlin’s arms full of packages.

“I have a lot of sweaters to knit for the holidays,” Hunith replied, buttoning her coat with gloved fingers. “Let’s pop in here for some tea, shall we?” She hurried toward a coffee shop and hustled her son inside and out of the bitter wind. Merlin chose a table and set the packages in the seat beside him, shrugging out of his coat while his mother looked over the menu choices.

When they’d ordered, Merlin said casually, “Arthur would love a sweater for Christmas.”

“I’m sure Arthur wouldn’t want to wear something hand-knitted,” Hunith sniffed.

“You’re wrong, Mum,” Merlin put a hand over hers and waited until she met his gaze. “Arthur would adore something you made for him. You don’t know him.”

Hunith pulled her hand away and fiddled with her napkin.

“Problem is, you don’t want to know him, do you?” Merlin asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. He sighed. “I never thought my dear mother could be such a snob.”

“A snob!” Hunith drew herself up in her chair. “Merlin Anthony Emrys, you know that isn’t true!”

“It is true! You’re a snob against people with money. You think they’re all the same. You don’t even want to know why Arthur would love to get a hand-knit sweater from you.”

“Alright, Merlin, so tell me,” Hunith relented, her voice cranky even as she managed a smile for the waitress that brought them their drinks.

“Arthur’s never had anyone care enough about him to hand make him anything,' Merlin explained, expressive blue eyes unknowingly showing how much this fact about his husband hurt to voice. He wrapped his hands around his warm cup. "His mother died when he was born, and he’s always felt the loss. He had several nannies, but none of them were the motherly type. Arthur would rather die than show it, but he longs for that kind of relationship. I know he very much wanted to make a good impression on you.”

Merlin watched his mother bite her lip, obviously fighting her basest motherly instincts. “Well, it’s not as though you gave me any warning, Merlin,” she said testily, and Merlin sighed.

“I know, Mum, I know. And I’m _sorry_ , really. Just…please. Will you try to get on with Arthur? At least don’t reject him. He’s had enough of that in his life already.”

“Who’s rejected him, then?” Hunith asked curiously, sipping carefully at her hot tea.

“I’m sure you noticed his father isn’t the warmest person in the world. Arthur practically has to beg for his attention, and it only takes a short skirt to draw it away. That or a board meeting.” Merlin rubbed his temple with his fingertips, irritated at Uther all over again. “And he’s always wanted to be close to his sister, but as soon as she was old enough, Morgana escaped to Europe to get away from Uther, whom she detests. Arthur’s asked her here countless times, but after being turned down over and over again, he’s given up.”

Merlin licked his lips and gazed over his mother’s shoulder. “Then there’s his aunt Vivienne, whom Arthur adored. She disowned him when he came out.”

Hunith made a noise of dismay. “That’s terrible!”

Merlin nodded. “It broke Arthur’s heart. He was twenty, and she was the closest thing he had to a mother, although he only saw her sporadically, as she lives in Scotland. But Mum,” Merlin leaned forward. “Never let on that I told you these things. Arthur has his pride. The carefully built exterior he shows is what keeps him together. He would hate to know you pitied him in any way.”

“Give me some credit,” she told him sternly. She turned her cup around in her hands. “What colour sweater do you suppose Arthur would fancy?” she asked after a moment.

“Red is his favourite.” Merlin hid his smile behind his cup.

After shopping for a couple more hours, Merlin felt like he did after an entire day at work. His mother seemed to want to enter every shop on the street. Arthur had sent a few harried texts about how stupid and incompetent Cenred was and about how he was going crazy and if he didn’t stay and straighten things out, none of his employees would get paid on time. He couldn’t possibly make lunch, so Merlin told him not to worry, that he and his mother would pick up his books for him and meet him at home later.

“He’s freaking out because he wants to spend time with you,” Merlin told his mother, making sure she knew that Arthur wanted his employees’ paychecks to get out on time.

“Well my ticket’s open-ended. It’s not like I have to fly home tomorrow,” Hunith pointed out. It was the first sign that she really might want to give Arthur a chance, and it warmed Merlin’s heart.

They entered the warm little shop and Merlin set the heavy bags on the counter and asked the boy working there if he had some books on hold for Arthur Pendragon. While he was waiting, Merlin leaned against the counter and groaned as he watched his mother head for the shelves. Juggling all these on the tube was going to be awful.

Arthur had tried several times to get Merlin to agree to learn to drive, but Merlin would have none of it. In spite of being a genius at fixing cars, Merlin had no desire to be behind the wheel of one himself. He was perfectly content to take public transportation or let Arthur drive them where they needed to go.

Hunith brought a book to the counter just as the boy returned from the back with two paper backs. He removed the sticky note with Arthur’s name on it and rang them up, along with Hunith’s novel. Merlin paid, and they exited the shop, heading for the tube station.

Once they boarded and Hunith had taken her purse-size Lysol out and sprayed the seat enough to pronounce it clean enough for her and Merlin to sit on, they situated themselves with their purchases. Merlin leaned back, closing his eyes, and Hunith reached for the book she’d bought, looking through it as they jolted along, making frequent stops for commuters to get on and off the car.

When they neared their stop and Hunith went to put the book back in the shopping bag, she paused. “Merlin, one of the books that Arthur ordered…it’s a guide for gay men and adoption.”

Merlin opened his eyes and looked over the packages between them at the book in her hands. “Oh, yeah. I remember we saw something about it on a talk show.”

Hunith looked at her son, her hazel eyes round as saucers. “Arthur wants children?”

Merlin met her gaze. “Sure. We both do, someday. Do you object?”

A wide smile spread over Hunith’s face. “Jesus , Mary, and Joseph, no I don’t object, Merlin! I’m going to be a grandmother!”

“Hold it, now, Mum, let’s not get ahead of ourselves!” Merlin chuckled. “We’re just looking into it.”

“And why shouldn’t you? Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have the family you want!” Hunith looked around at the other commuters who couldn’t help but stare. “Does it, now?” she asked them.

Most shook their heads or shrugged.

“What happened to your disdain for my rich husband?” Merlin asked, brows raised.

“Shut up, Merlin, don’t back talk your mother.”

~~~OOO~~~

Merlin could see the shock and confusion on Arthur’s face when Hunith greeted him at the door that evening.

“Was it a difficult day at work then, Arthur?” she asked, taking his coat from him and leading him into the dining room where dinner was already on the table. Arthur looked nervously at Merlin, who just smiled.

“Come sit down at the table, then, there you go.” Hunith turned away, and Arthur made a quick drinking motion with his hand, his eyebrows raised. Merlin laughed, shaking his head.

“You poor thing. You need a competent manager to take care of these things for you," Hunith rattled on. "Imagine, you still on your honeymoon and having to spend the entire day at the office ironing out someone else’s mistakes.” She set a large bowl of lamb and potato stew in front of Arthur. “Eat up; you’re too thin.” She bustled back into the kitchen.

Arthur stared across the table at Merlin. “What happened?” he asked in a whisper.

Merlin shrugged. “She realized how charming you are,” he answered.

Arthur frowned. Hunith returned, planting a large glass of milk in front of Arthur. “Drink that up, dear. It’ll put hair on your chest.”

Arthur snuck a peek beneath his shirt as Hunith motioned for Merlin to eat up.

“I’ve already eaten,” she said, turning the chandelier lights down a bit. “You two have a nice romantic meal. I’m just going to slip into the tub for a bit with my novel.” She bustled down the hall.

“All right, Merlin. Give,” Arthur said when she’d gone. “That is not the same woman who was here this morning.”

Merlin laughed and indicated Arthur’s spoon. “Better eat that stew, or Mum will be angry.”

Arthur picked up his spoon and dished out a bite, still frowning.

Merlin leaned in. “Mum saw the book. The one on adoption.” He gave his husband a wink. “You’re in like Flynn, mate.”

“Are you serious?” He took a bite and closed his eyes. “Oh, my God, this is delicious!”

Merlin nodded. “Now you can apparently do no wrong.”

Arthur took a long drink of his milk, and Merlin grinned at the white mustache it left. “You did tell her this isn’t something we plan to do tomorrow, didn't you?” Arthur took another bite of stew, rolling his eyes heavenward in ecstasy.

“Yeah, but I guess that doesn’t matter. Just the thought of being a grandmother has gone to her head. She’s even knitting you a sweater for Christmas, although I think she’d made that decision before.” Merlin took a bite of his buttered bread.

The pleased blush that spread over Arthur’s cheeks warmed Merlin all over. When they were through with dinner and Arthur tried to do the dishes, Hunith insisted that he go rest after his hard day at work. She told Merlin to clean up instead.

“Mum!” Merlin whined a little, but did as he was told, happy that Arthur was happy. He listened as Hunith fussed over Arthur, telling him to take a warm bath and get into his pyjamas. Merlin wondered if anyone had ever fussed over Arthur other than himself.

By the time Hunith left for home three days later, she’d insisted that Arthur call her Mum and had extracted a promise that he and Merlin would be coming for the holidays.

Just before she boarded the plane, she took a picture of the two of them, arms about one another’s waists and cheeks pressed together, standing in front of the airport’s newly-put-up Christmas tree.  Happily, she announced it would grace the cover of her holiday cards that year.

True to her word, a week later they received one, the words “My boys” written under the picture.

Arthur spent an inordinate amount of time fingering the card, Merlin noticed.

When they left for Ealdor a few weeks later, there was a package addressed simply "to Mum, from her boys."

It was a happy Christmas, indeed, and Arthur adored his red sweater.

 

_finis_

 

**Author's Note:**

> See [here](http://rjames201581.wix.com/rebecca-james) for my original gay romance stories.


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